Vroom Vroom
by summer.carousel
Summary: A license plate can tell a lot about a man. Which is why Renji is so desperate for a new one.


Vroom Vroom

**Hey! New story. With Renji. Hopefully it'll make you crack a smile. **

**So…since I know nothing of license plates in Japan, I'm gonna pretend they are like the license plates in the U.S. And I'm gonna pretend they have DMVs over there too.**

**Rated T for language...**

**I don't own Bleach.**

**

* * *

**

Renji was on the verge of tears.

These things only happened to him.

_Only _to him.

Fate must have a special place for him in its cold heart.

...

"Please, I'm just asking for a simple exchange." He pleaded with the ancient, crabby lady at the DMV counter. "I don't even care what you exchange it with. Anything but this."

The lady looked at him through her massive glasses. "What's the big deal, red?" she snapped. "Can't you see I'm busy? Don't you have eyeballs?"

In all his life, Renji had never met someone so uncooperative. Evidently, someone had replaced her pancakes with sawdust this morning.

Renji gestured frantically at the license plate lying innocently on the counter. "It's…it's…offensive! It's embarrassing! Vulgar, even!"

She rolled her eyes. "I don't see nothing wrong with it."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. _Do I have to spell it out for her? Really?_

"It's just…I'd very much like to have a different license plate, please."

"If you wanna customize it, that'll be an extra 120 –"

"No, no, no. I don't wanna customize it. I'd just like an exchange, please-"

"Yeah, yeah, you already told me a zillion times, kid. You wanna exchange. And I already told ya a zillion times that I don't see what's wrong with it. V-A-G 7-5-1. Normal letters. Normal numbers."

He could feel his face turning pink. _Count to ten. Count to ten. _

_One…two…three…four…fivesixseveneightnineten._

"Excuse me," he paused, trying a different approach, "_miss_. I would really appreciate-"

Wrong approach.

"Miss?" she exploded. Everyone in the DMV whipped around. Renji cringed. "Excuse _you_, ginger, but _I _am old enough to be your poor grandmother, wherever she may be, probably in the grave because of your shameless manners-"

"I'm sorry! Ma'am! I meant ma'am! And please," he leaned forward, much to her disgust, "please, I didn't mean it, so don't be offended. But I'd really like to change license plates. Looking at this plate makes me die inside. I can't drive around like this. And I'd really like to explain to you why, but it's kind of an awkward matter which would be a lot easier if-"

"V-A-G." she read, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Vag. Not even a word. 7-5-1. Odd numbers. You gotta problem with odd numbers?"

_This is just too embarrassing. _"No, you see," he whispered. "V-A-G is like…a slang word. It's very crude. Very improper."

"Oh yeah? And what does it mean, kid?"

He winced. "Uh…well. You see, I'd rather not explain."

"What a pansy. You got five seconds to convince me or I'm kicking you and your license plate outta here." The lady drawled, inspecting her claws.

He practically started crying right there on the counter. "Come on! Please? I really…well, it…it means…well, um, it means-"

"It means va-jay-jay. Like, that thing down there. Get it?"

Saved.

He looked out from between his fingers covering his reddening face. Or, maybe not so saved.

Rukia stood there behind the counter, looking bored and amused at the same time. She turned to the old lady.

"Understand, boss? It's that thing that guys chase but can't get. Not in this town anyways." She winked at Renji. "And having a license plate like that would be like advertising –"

"Wh-wh-what are you d-doing here?" he spluttered. This day could not get more awkward.

Rukia's face turned cold. "I work here, dumbass. If you were smart, you'd get a summer job too."

Renji scratched his head sheepishly. "Well, since you're here, and you seem to understand my…predicament…would you please-"

"Hey, wait. What the hell is a va-jay-jay?"

"Nevermind, boss. I'll take care of this kid."

"Please, Rukia?" Renji was practically groveling for help.

She pretended to ponder it for awhile, looking from the license plate to Renji's desperate face to her wristwatch and back. This was kinda fun. "Oh dear. What would Ichigo say if he saw the state you're in right now?" she said slyly, wiggling her bunny-stickered cell phone in front of his nose.

Renji paled. Oh god. The horror. Ichigo could not, _ever_, know about this situation. This embarrassing, shaming situation. The teasing would never end, not even till Ichigo died and went to Soul Society and became a real freakin' shinigami and even then, the teasing would continue.

And Renji would lose all of his rep. Forever.

He almost launched himself over the counter at her. "Please! No! For the love of all that is good and holy, _no! _I would rather die, Rukia, I really would! I mean, I'm already dead, but still! He can't even know that I had a license plate that read v-v-v…va-va-v-"

"All right! Grow up. I won't tell." She snapped, putting her cell phone away. "If I give you a new license plate, will you get outta here and leave me the hell alone?"

Renji felt like angels were blessing him. "Yes! I will, I promise, I will leave you alone. Thank you so, so, so, much, Rukia-san-"

"Shut it." She turned and headed for the storeroom. A minute later, she came back with a license plate wrapped in brown paper and some bubble wrap. "Now, get lost."

Renji turned and scrammed.

_Hallelujah._

_..._

Safe in his closet of a room at the back of Urahara's shop, he breathed a deep sigh of relief and prayed thanks to all his guardian gods. He had that nasty, godawful license plate off his hands. And now he had a new one. One with nice, random letters and numbers in an innocent combination that would not embarrass his manliness in any way whatsoever. He would feel proud driving his car around with this normal license plate. No matter that his car was somewhat small and second-hand and feminine-ish. At least it didn't read V-A-G. He gleefully peeled away the paper and bubble wrap like a kid opening a Christmas present...

And screamed.

The gods really hated him.

Oh, how much his life sucked.

"Hey, Renji, wanna go get sushi- whoahh…" Ichigo stopped short of charging into Renji's room. "What's that you got there? Hm?"

Renji whipped it behind his back. "Nothing. Sushi sounds good." He said, manfully containing a sniffle.

Ichigo's eyes gleamed, and he charged at Renji. A short scuffle later, and Ichigo held Renji in a chokehold and the license plate in the other hand.

"Get offa me! Get! Off! Me!"

"You gotta be kidding!" Ichigo burst out laughing. "Seriously? Really? Oh, this is just too good."

And so, Renji was the proud new owner of a secondhand Mazda Miata, complete with a sparkling new license plate that declared S-T-D 4-1-9.

* * *

**Ohoho…poor Renji.**

**This is a kinda true story. I actually saw a car with a license plate VAG 751 the other day. I felt very sorry for its owner.**

**Read & review!**

**and if you would be nice, would someone please identify the anime/manga that this pictures comes from: **

**http**

**:**

**double slash**

**i40.**

**tinypic**

**.com**

**/**

**2wgdk43.**

**png**


End file.
